


opia

by waveandwhisper



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:43:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4810106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveandwhisper/pseuds/waveandwhisper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the best time for yixing is right before the morning sets in, even though he can't tell when it's coming. jongdae takes advantage, gives him everything, fucks him until he feels something again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	opia

**Author's Note:**

> 1.8k words  
> spaceship!au for katie. [chenlay] nc-17  
> warnings: unnecessary emotions, some plot in pwp, lapslock

 

“ **you**  live to tease me,” yixing breathes. “don’t lie; i know you already.”

 

in the morning, yixing is weak. his limbs are pliant and ready to be pushed aside for the prize. in the morning, he forgets his responsibilities. he lives, he lets. his dark eyes aren’t even open all the way, shuttering out the occasional streams of bluish light swimming through the lone porthole in an otherwise bare wall. everything in front of yixing’s eyes is painted pretty obsidian, all except jongdae’s face, the side of it being lit momentarily and then flashing away. the blue catches his quirked eyebrow, his small nose, his fatally sharp cheekbone before disappearing again. “i would never lie.” his voice rattles around in yixing’s head, sounding too close and too quiet for comfort. yixing’s ear grows hot, presumably with jongdae’s breath next to it. “i love it.”

 

yixing wishes he were able to do something more than clutch jongdae’s shoulders, but he has to know exactly where he is. he needs assurance. this strange stranded island of a home does him no good, with days that look like nights and skies with no sound. the only thing that brings him back to earth is jongdae, the guy who keeps the ship sparkling with a smile and a song. yixing tripped over his mop the first time they met, falling flat on his butt with an unbecoming screech. jongdae’s eyes crinkled up with amusement.

  

jongdae is one of the few people on the ship that remembers the before-home, including yixing himself. yixing recognized one of his songs, written in old-speak before it had started to die out, and hummed along. jongdae grinned wildly that day. they talked of the homeland, of their families’ stories, everything. sitting together at yixing’s desk became sitting together on yixing’s desk, which then turned into hushed meals in the observation room when the captain was out.

  

they almost never got caught.

  

invitations to yixing’s room were followed swiftly by invitations to his bed. not for anything besides a quick nap between shifts and some unintentional cuddling, of course. yixing thought the flutters in his own chest were signs of early onset heart problems. jongdae promised him a trip to the ship’s medic if it ever happened again, a knowing smile on his lips.

 

jongdae sometimes read to him from a large book, considered an artifact in most academic circles. it was one of jongdae’s last family possessions from before the great migration. he could have donated it for research years ago, but that old thing had power, at least for him. though yixing could speak some, the ancient old-speak characters hadn’t been a familiar sight since he was a young boy. jongdae read it instead, sometimes eliciting a laugh from yixing, just because the meanings of the words seemed more flowery than he remembered. for a civilization just on the verge of destruction, earth people sure made a lot of time for talking about useless things. “el-uh. luh…luh…luv-uh. love. it means affection, attachment, or devotion. i told you it sounds like you.” jongdae offered a fruity laugh.

 

yixing scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “affection is more precise, though. why doesn’t this stuff makes sense?”

 

jongdae shook his head. “affection has a simpler definition. but love…” his gaze dropped. “it was something to believe in. back then.”

  

yixing’s chest was falling subject to sensations he couldn’t understand. at those times, yixing scrambled back to report to the captain. he wasn’t always called, but he went anyway. the short walk helped a bit, but something still nagged at him.

 

even in his room shrouded in darkness, with jongdae’s face mostly hidden in black, the fluttering returns to yixing tenfold. jongdae buries his face in yixing’s neck, pressing his lips under his jaw where he would get the most reaction. he then sits on yixing’s hips once he’s satisfied, grinding slowly so he gets the point. yixing’s hands immediately fly up to jongdae’s waist, at which jongdae laughs airily. “hold on, let me get ready.”

 

as jongdae positions himself over yixing, yixing becomes acutely aware of his own obscenely spread legs and sweat-drenched brow. suddenly, there’s heat, awe-inducing heat that made yixing’s tongue cry out and his toes curl. a blue wash of light illuminates jongdae just long enough for the expression on his face to be burned into the brain forever: eyes shut tight and quivering, mouth open for a silent scream, veins in his neck straining in protest. the arch in his back is positively wicked.

 

yixing could easily hold jongdae up and slam into his tight body, but that isn’t part of the plan. jongdae said he wanted to do the work, and he would. his hips rock up and down with an increasingly unsteady rhythm, as fast and hard as he could go without any help. jongdae whimpers at a particularly unforgiving drop and circles his hips to see if he could get that feeling again. his fingers grip the side of yixing’s neck briefly before sliding down over his prominent collarbone, to his chest, to his nipple. he feels the cool piece of metal there. “you kept this from me,” jongdae rasps, “for too long.” he bent his head down to play at the piercing with his tongue while he rutted lazily against yixing. yixing moans helplessly, his nerves buzzing furiously. jongdae pulls away. “contraband. what would captain say?” he continues to suck and bite there to the tune of yixing’s pleas.

 

jongdae pulls away again and taps yixing’s hip, a cue for him to raise his knees so jongdae could lean back. he began riding him again at a near dizzying pace. yixing’s lower back tingles and his thighs shake. his teeth bury permanent spots into his bottom lip. all the while, jongdae is practically sobbing about how close he is, how he just needs a bit more, how yixing should help him. “are you sure?” yixing grits, sinking his nails into any skin he could reach; one set in jongdae’s thigh, one set mistakenly dug into in his own. a circle of cool brightness moves across jongdae’s chest, revealing the sheen on his skin.

 

“fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” jongdae demands. and what is yixing if not a giver? yixing’s hands settle at jongdae’s ass, squeezing the firm flesh with more strength than he needs. he smacks it playfully, just to see how loud jongdae would be. he isn’t disappointed. yixing holds jongdae’s slim hips in place, palms to the slight dips in the sides. with all he can muster, he sets his hips to work, thrusting upwards with abandon. he doesn’t go too hard, though; he doesn’t like to hurt jongdae. not unless he explicitly wants it, then all bets are off. jongdae leans forward and kisses the corner of his lips, then right above his top lip, before connecting with his mouth. yixing throws an arm over his shoulder.

  

jongdae was really as close as he said, only surviving yixing’s control for about a minute before coming all over them both, shaking even after he was fully spent. yixing stops for him, lets him ride it out on his own, secretly relishing in the high, pitiful moans jongdae fails to hide. jongdae unseats himself from yixing’s lap and curls up on the bed beside him.

 

his fingertips scale the expanse of yixing’s waist before he finds what he’s been searching for, made obvious by the way yixing’s ab muscles tremble under his touch. jongdae slides his hand down and wraps his fingers around yixing’s cock. he strokes him, unnerved by the audible squelch of a touch too much lube but nevertheless undeterred. “give it to me. come on, right here.” yixing feels the energy leaving his legs as he releases into jongdae’s hand, crying out jongdae’s name. his breath barely stirs in his lungs.

  

“you have a busy day ahead of you, don’t you?” jongdae’s voice is still rough.

 

yixing sighs. “we’re heading for 174-525, unnamed. we should land at eight tonight. i’ll be in the steering compartment until then.” they’re both silent for a few beats. “sorry.”

 

jongdae wipes his slick hand on the sheets and sidles up to yixing. “it’s okay. just don’t change out of your uniform before you come see me. you can put it to good use.” yixing laughs loudly at this, surprised at how far ahead jongdae’s dirty thoughts extended. well, partly surprised.

 

“just wait for me.”

 

jongdae pulls yixing closer, nose to neck. “was it okay? this?” he murmurs, lips brushing the side of yixing’s throat.

  

he had never asked that before, not with that fragile voice. jongdae always wanted to know how good it was for yixing, if he was comfortable with what was coming next. somehow this question begged for an answer deeper than  _baby, you rocked my stratosphere._ before he could catch himself, yixing whispers, “loved it.” he could feel jongdae smiling against him. “sorry, that wasn’t accurate. i appreciated it. enjoyed it. i –”

  

“love is better. it’s…it’s my favorite old-speak word. it’s got history.” jongdae pushes himself up and tosses his legs over the side of the bed. “almost 0700 hours. gotta get cleaned up and start my shift.” he feels around for yixing’s chin, making him giggle. jongdae kisses him on the mouth on his first try, a lucky success. the automatic light in yixing’s private living area switched on right on time, shedding enough yellow light through the vent in his bedroom door for jongdae to find his scattered clothing. “um, i, uh, don’t see my briefs.”

 

“go without them.” yixing bit back a chuckle. “wouldn’t wanna be late.”

  

jongdae groaned. “if i wasn’t late already…you’re gonna get it later. just wait.” he slipped through the door and shut it behind him.

  

 

 

yixing slides out of bed, trying to ignore the sticky feeling all over his body. he walks slowly to the porthole in the wall, wincing at the dull pain in his limbs. being down on the navigation deck every day robs him of these precious opportunities to just stare out at space. as the ship plunges forward, yixing knows they are literally moving ahead in time. he looks back on the light-years left behind.

 

yixing wonders which star marks the day that he stopped believing, the day that he packed away his old world things. he had never felt so lost before that moment.

 

his mind keeps circling around that word, the only thing he knew of that could mean nothing and everything at the same time. yixing had no memories to connect it to, no point of reference.

 

however, if he was right about the riotous pounding behind his ribcage when he looked into jongdae’s eyes, that word wasn’t dead.

not yet. 

and neither was he. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

___________

 

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